Hannah went into her apartment and left the door cracked open, which I felt was a good sign. I couldn’t help but snoop in the small area I could see through the gap. There were a couple bookshelves, and some of the shelves had a few repeated copies of Nicole Marcel books. Would it be acceptable to ask for a signed copy of one of her books after we…did whatever?

Suddenly, I became acutely aware that I wasn’t sure what exactly Hannah was looking for by bringing me up here. Was it sex? Was I presumptuous for thinking that a woman who brought me back to her apartment within ten minutes of meeting me and telling me of her BDSM hobby wanted to have sex with me?

Did I want to have sex with her? Well, I guess I knew the answer to that one, but still…

Hannah opened the door and pulled me out of my panic, or maybe literally opened the door to more. She had a bunch of scattered paperwork in her hands. “Thank god publishers are still so stubbornly old-school that they insist on paper checks, right?”

She held out a handful of checks written out to Hannah Merrill, dba Nicole Marcel. Holy shit. I wanted to take the checks from her hands and run my finger over the ink, feel the indent of the words that proved this woman was Nicole Marcel. But, c’mon, Zoe, if she was going to prepare a scam this stupidly elaborate to bed a, let’s be generous, slightly more than averagely attractive woman, I would almost sleep with her just because she had such hustle.

And maybe a little bit for her piercing green eyes.

And how soft her hair looked.

And how incredible her breasts looked.

Ok, so I would definitely sleep with her, if she wanted to.

“I think that’s the confirmation I needed. Hi, Hannah.” I said, hoping for a reset from the paranoid last few minutes.

“Wanna come in?” Hannah said.

4

"Sorry it's such a mess, I didn't…well, I was kind of hoping for something like this." Hannah said as we walked in. I looked around and had no idea what she was talking about. Yeah she might have had a few things out of place, but compared to my place, this apartment was immaculate.

OK, there was a pile of blankets on the floor. And the desk was a mess. But overall, spotless.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind at all. I’m just…I’m sorry, I’m just processing the fact that I’m in the living room of a woman who…” I looked over at Hannah, who was standing halfway to the kitchen. “You just really helped me…confirm a lot of things about myself. Can I sit?” I motioned toward the sleek black leather couch in the middle of the room.